


The Best Possible Gift

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coda, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Episode Related, Getting Together, Holidays, Kissing, M/M, S8E11, a bit long for a coda, lots of kissing and a bit more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 13:54:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13459659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Danny’s not upset Steve crashed his Christmas with Charlie. Actually, he’s kind of glad he’s there... maybe more glad than he’s really willing to admit.





	The Best Possible Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This is the problem with being behind watching the show.... Obviously it’s a bit late to be posting a holiday story, but there was no way I was going to resist dealing with the end of that episode. Seriously. It’s like they keep gifting us with the perfect little ins for splendid little stories. This one took me a while, but I think it's worth the wait.... :-)
> 
> I’ve got a little something for the end of episode 12 as well, for Thursday. And that’s as far as I’m caught up with the show, so as usual, _no spoilers, please._
> 
> (Speaking of spoiling....) You’ve been spoiling me with your comments—thank you all so much. I’m so lucky to have such wonderful readers! I hope you enjoy this one......

Danny wouldn’t have admitted it, but he was immensely relieved that Steve had shown up, unannounced, uninvited.... And he especially wouldn’t have admitted that he hoped he’d _stay_ , but the truth was he really really did. Don’t get him wrong, he was thrilled to have Charlie for tonight, of all nights. To get to be woken up by his boy jumping (hopefully very gently) on his bed... he was swelling with pleasure over the anticipation. To make pancakes and open presents and to have that... warmth, that glow, that magic, of a little kid, excited on Christmas morning. Danny was over the moon. He was.

Except....

Well, see the thing is. Danny’s recovery wasn’t exactly going as well as he would have liked. He joked that it was because Steve had stuck his big clumsy fingers inside him. Which wasn’t a thought that made him twinge with something other than remembered pain... um.... He wasn’t the one who thought it first, okay? Everyone’d been leering when Steve had said it, so just get your mind out of the gutter, alright? Gesh. But, since we’re talking about what Steve had done.... Well. The idea that Steve had been able to do that, to cut his chest open, to use his fingers to clear the way, to do whatever it took to save his life...  Well, that didn’t do strange things to the insides of Danny’s chest, to his heart. No, that was all down to those big fingers wiggling around inside him. That had to be it.

The fact that Danny had woken up from surgery to find Steve sleeping at his bedside, holding his hand... that hadn’t done funny things to his pulse. That was the drugs. And the strain. And the blood loss.

Which also explained why his head wasn’t quite working right yet either.

Maybe it also explained why Danny hadn’t been sleeping very well. It wasn’t so much the nightmares, remembered blurs of pain and fear.... No, Danny was somewhat accustomed to nightmares about impending death narrowly avoided (okay, they were usually about Steve’s narrowly avoided death, but that was mostly because there were more examples of that, not because it meant anything). Anyway, it wasn’t nightmares that affected his sleep. It was the waking up alone. That was what was doing him in.

But, again. He wasn’t willing to admit that.

Still. His recovery was going far slower than usual. So, if his heart had jumped when he’d seen Steve standing there, stupid stupid shaved head, stupid big hands grabbing all his cookies, grubby fingers smearing grease all over the glass of milk... well, it wasn’t out of fear or anxiety or... no. It was, and alright alright, he couldn’t help but admit it, but it was sheer _relief_.

The fact that he was pretty sure Steve planned on staying the night wasn’t really something he was prepared to look too closely at. He was just... grateful.

Danny gave up the cookie battle rather easily. He gave up most things rather easily since he’d been shot. He was pretty sure Steve had noticed. He didn’t think too much about what Steve might make of that, how it might make him feel, but he hadn’t missed that Steve had been extra solicitous of him lately. Danny complained a couple of times, but he didn’t mean it. He was pretty sure Steve knew that as well.

He’d kind of slumped back on the sofa, letting Steve have his way with the cookies, just wanting to rest, now that Charlie was in bed, needing to wait till he was soundly asleep before he got the gifts out of the closet and filled the stockings... needing to rest a bit before he could gather the energy.

It almost seemed like Steve had been waiting for that, waiting for him to kind of wilt.... Because he stopped mid-sentence, sat back with Danny, and somehow managed to get his arm wrapped around him in such a way that he, remarkably deftly, wound up with Danny resting not just against his side, but actually against his chest, so Steve could hold him close, hold him still... keep him warm. Although, Danny was pretty sure his shivers were not just about the temperature, which wasn’t really very cold, what with it being Hawaii and all, because even “cold” here wasn’t something that any self-respecting person would deign to label cold.... And, even in his head he was doing the awkward-talking-too-much thing. _Shut up, just shut up, and enjoy this, alright? It’s just comfort, and you need it so bad. Just...._

“Shhhh,” Steve whispered, his breath against Danny’s hair tickling him just a little.

“I didn’t—” Danny began, but then just stopped. “Yeah, okay.” Steve knew. Knew he’d want to protest, want to resist, want to explain it all away.... Well, maybe Danny was finally just too tired to fight it.

“Let me know when you think he’s asleep, Danny, and I’ll get the stuff out. You tell me where it all goes. Alright? Then I’m getting you into bed.”

Danny couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that escaped his chest at that. Because, he really didn’t think he’d fight Steve over anything right now. Including wherever Steve decided he was going to put _himself_ to bed.... Too much of Danny hoped it would be with _him_. He couldn’t even argue with himself over the notion.

“Thanks, babe.”

Steve held him closer, but gently—absolutely and probably painstakingly aware of his injuries. He had an intimate knowledge of them, after all....

“Just promise me you’ll rest this week.”

“I’ve _been_ resting, babe.” He had. Well. Sort of. Meaning, he wasn’t going to work. But he had spent probably a few too many hours cleaning and decorating and shopping and cooking and baking....

“No, you haven’t.” Steve, of course, knew. Danny half suspected he’d had Jerry following him....

Danny huffed out an amused, if slightly befuddled laugh. “That’s rich, babe, coming from you.”

“Well, so I know what I’m talking about. What do I need to do to get you to rest?” He paused, as if he might wait for Danny to come up with something, but before he could, Steve continued. “Rest with you?” The way he said it... more tentative than he usually was, softer, _hopeful_?

If he craned his neck slightly uncomfortably, Danny could look up at Steve from his position against him. “You mean that?” He asked, voice a whisper. He’d never in all their years being partners worked out how to get Steve to rest. And now he was simply offering to do so, unbidden? Because he wanted Danny to...? The thought did strange things to Danny’s heart.

Steve’s eyes closed, he swallowed and nodded once. “Yeah, Danny. I want us to take the whole week off and just relax. We both need it, and I’m pretty sure you won’t really rest otherwise.”

Danny was just too tired and too sore and too sleep deprived and too emotional, dangit. That’s why his eyes got all misty. He tried to reply, but found his voice wasn’t quite working, so he just nodded, and then put his head back down on Steve’s chest. It was strangely comforting, and he was too tired to ask himself why. Besides. He knew why. He fucking knew.

Turned out it was even more comforting than he’d thought, because he swiftly drifted off and only woke when Steve stirred to try and get up, attempting to leave Danny asleep on the sofa.

“Hey, buddy,” he said softly when Danny murmured and reached out, sleepily, unintentionally, to him. “I was gonna get the gifts out.”

Danny nodded, and propped his drooping head up on his arm, shoving a pillow under him as well. Fortunately, Steve is fluent in Danny gestures, so he was easily able to fill the stockings and place the gifts in the correct places. When he was done, he knelt by Danny’s side.

“Want me to carry you?” He asked, and it was a little playful, but honestly, it sounded a little too fucking genuine. Danny knew Steve would do it, unhesitatingly. He shook his head just slightly, and held his hand out to be helped up. “Alright, easy there, buddy.” And he half carried him anyway, setting him softly down on Danny’s bed, then stood there awkwardly. “I, uh... I can’t sleep on the sofa. Santa won’t come if I’m out there....”

Danny snickered. He’d wondered how Steve had thought he was gonna manage that. Should have known, really, and it was kind of cunning, he had to admit. But he was too sleepy to comment, he just held out his hand to Steve and grunted in a way that sounded a lot needier than he’d intended.

Steve’s lips pressed together, and he hesitated for one brief moment. But Danny was tired-crabby and his eyes, of their own accord, rolled, and it was enough. Steve climbed gingerly onto the bed next to Danny, and wrapped his arms snugly back around him. He hadn’t realized he’d been cold from the loss of contact, until it was back, and that must have been why he’d fallen asleep before... that warmth. Because he slipped so easily back asleep, catching, just as he faded out, a bare breath of a whisper from Steve: “Sleep tight, Danno.” And a light kiss to the back of his neck. And he slept.

When he woke, it was to Steve and Charlie sitting at the foot of the bed, Charlie drinking what looked to be a mug of whipped cream, Steve drinking coffee. They were whispering in that “maybe if we whisper a little louder, it will wake him up” kind of way. He struggled to sit up, creaky and stiff, but less sore than he’d been, and certainly more well-rested than he’d felt since before quarantine.

“Hey, it worked, buddy!” Steve was grinning hugely as Charlie high-fived him.

“Here’s your coffee, Danno,” Charlie said, as he got up to put his drink down and pick up a big mug and carry it over to Danny’s side of the bed.

“Thanks, Charlie,” Danny said as he took it from him, giving what he hoped was a grateful look to Steve. He was pretty sure it was a lot more than grateful, because this was, if he’d been able to admit it to himself, this was exactly the kind of morning... well. It was pretty much the perfect way to be woken up, is what he’s trying _not_ to think.

But he does. And from the smug look on Steve’s face, he’s guessed.

“Can we do presents now, Danno?” Charlie asks, trying not to be overly eager.

“We have to wait for Gracie to do gifts, buddy, you remember that. But we could do stockings now, if you—”

Charlie was out the door to get the stockings before Danny could finish. He chuckled, and Steve took the opportunity of Charlie’s absence to grab Danny’s toes through the blanket.

“Hey.” His eyes were still sleepy, but warm and way too fond.

“How long you guys been up?”

“Not too long. He found me in the kitchen making coffee.” Steve gave him a look, slightly unreadable, until Danny realized he was reassuring him that Charlie hadn’t found them in bed together.

Thing was, Danny _hadn’t_ been concerned about Charlie finding them. He hadn’t even thought of it. Which kind of spooked him.

Steve evidently read something of that in his expression, and looked a little surprised.

“Thanks, babe,” Danny whispered quickly, as he could hear Charlie making his way back to the bedroom trying not to drop the stockings. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too, buddy,” Steve squeezed Danny’s toes again, gave him a meaningful look, his eyes, it seemed to Danny, promising something... he wasn’t quite sure what, but it made him shiver. He didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because Charlie was dropping the stockings on the bed, and they were soon distracted by the contents. He let Charlie take a bite of his chocolate Santa (“But just one bite—you gonna start with the head or the feet?”), and then suggested they make some breakfast while they waited for Grace to come over for presents.

“Chocolate chip pancakes, Danno?” Charlie asked, practically bouncing on the bed, no doubt from the amount of chocolate and sugar he’d already consumed.

“How about I make omelets?” Steve suggested.

“What are those?” Charlie asked, giving Uncle Steve the googley eyes he reserved only for him and Captain America.

“You don’t know what omelets are, buddy? What’s your dad been teaching you about breakfast foods?”

“Chocolate chip pancakes,” Charlie and Danny replied in unison.

“Omelets it is,” Steve said, standing. “Come on, buddy, I’ll teach you.” He gave Danny a wink as he led Charlie to the kitchen, giving Danny some time to shower and get ready, if he wanted. Or maybe he’d just sit for a bit and muse over the way his Christmas morning was looking decidedly different from how he’d imagined. It didn’t take long for him to decide that watching his boys in the kitchen was far more alluring than a lengthy shower alone—um, by which he meant, you know, without Charlie telling him to hurry up. Yeah. That’s what he meant....

Sure.

Danny slid his feet into his slippers and followed the sounds of two goofs breaking eggs. Pouring himself more coffee, Danny settled in to watch. He’d always enjoyed watching Steve in the kitchen, but watching Steve in the kitchen teaching Charlie how to cook... well that was a whole new level of... something. Danny’s heart was going all soft. And he’d slept so well, and he was too moved by the scene in front of him to deny that he knew precisely _why_ he’d slept so well. He wanted to bottle this moment and keep it always.

They ate the omelets at the dining room table, Charlie declaring they were the best ever, and Danny finding he kind of agreed. Steve was beaming like he’d won some kind of prize, and Danny found that thought followed almost immediately by his own: _No, I’m the one who’s won the prize_. Which made his cheeks feel hot. Steve seemed to notice something, because he turned those soft, fond, warm eyes on Danny for a good long moment, before they were both distracted by Charlie having taken advantage of their “moment” to rush over and start shaking packages under the tree.

“Hey, buddy, none of that. Why don’t you go play in your room for a bit. Grace will be here soon.”

“Okay, Danno,” Charlie replied, dejected sounding, but then ran off to his room.

“He’s such a good kid, Danny,” Steve said, as they stood to clear the table.

“Yeah, I’m not entirely sure how that happened.”

“Gracie is too, buddy. You make excellent people.”

Danny laughed. “Uh, thanks, I guess?”

“I’ll go clean up,” Steve offered, taking the stack of plates from Danny, adding his own to it. “Why don’t you go relax on the sofa.”

“Babe. I’m not made of glass.”

“I know.” But Steve didn’t sound convinced.

“I’ll help clean up then you come sit with me.” Danny pretended he wasn’t thinking that he’d much rather be on the sofa _with_ Steve than _without_ him.

Steve sighed, and Danny actually thought he was going to protest, but he didn’t, just nodded at the table, then headed toward the kitchen. Danny grabbed their empty mugs and juice glasses and followed. Once they were there, though, Danny didn’t really manage to do much more than kind of sort of dry things, until he stopped pretending and hoisted himself carefully up on the counter and gave in to watching Steve wash up, faded images of some ridiculous Naval kitchen-duty fantasy flickering through his mind, undoubtedly making him blush.

“That your way of helping, Danno?” Steve asked, snidely but warmly, as he took the towel from over Danny’s shoulder and started to dry.

“I’m your moral support,” Danny offered, only to be rewarded with a snap of the towel on his (good side) arm. Expertly done, of course, so as to not actually hurt. Although it did make him blush more.... Which was really becoming a problem. One he wasn’t totally sure he minded.

Steve finished quickly, leaving the clean things stacked on the counter rather than putting them away, then stepped in between Danny’s legs, putting the towel back around his neck, using it to pull him in closer.

“I wanted to get you something really special for Christmas, but I couldn’t come up with anything good enough,” Steve whispered, looking at Danny’s lips, which he was licking. “There was only one thing I could think of, that I really wanted you to have, but I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” He looked up, into Danny’s eyes. “But I think now I’m sure....” And he leaned in, far too slowly, and very softly, tentatively, pressed a kiss to Danny’s wet lips. Danny’s whole body went slack, as he sank down into the kiss, gasping in distress when Steve pulled back. “You like that? Want the rest?” He sounded less smug than shattered. Danny hooked his slippered feet around the backs of Steve’s legs and tugged him closer. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured on a slight huff of breath as he moved back in for a deeper kiss, running his hands down Danny’s back, sliding them between his butt and the counter, and lifting him off it, into his arms, turning around and carrying him out to the sofa, stumbling slightly as he set him down on it, falling next to him with a cat-like grace.

“So, what,” Danny managed when he’d caught his breath. “You’re my gift?”

Steve’s smile quirked into a cheeky grin. “Not bad, huh?”

Danny’s eyes fluttered closed and he licked his lips again. “Only you could be so fucking smug.”

“Danny, I’m serious.”

“You know, I think you probably are.”

“ _So_?”

“So, what?”

“Do you like your gift?”

“Oh my god, you are impossible.” He kissed him. “But, yes, babe. I love it.”

“Good.”

Steve pulled Danny halfway onto his lap, whispering “You can open the rest tonight, after the kids go home....”

And his timing was perfect, because just as they pulled back from another promise-filled kiss, Danny heard Grace’s key in the lock. They’d separated by the time she got the door open, but evidently not enough, if the look on her face was anything to go by.

“Well, that’s the best possible gift right there, I guess I can just go back to mom’s now....” She said it softly, so that Charlie wouldn’t hear, and she was smirking, a look so like Steve’s it almost made Danny gasp.

Before they could say anything else, Charlie, who’d obviously heard her arrival, was in the room yelling “Presents! Time for presents!”

Grace handed a bag of gifts to Charlie, whispering to him to add them to the ones already under the tree. She was dressed in comfy clothes only a small step up from pajamas, and Danny was grateful for that concession to his Christmas-morning-in-pjs preference. It didn’t really balance out the fact she was looking more like a grown up and less like a kid, seemingly by the minute, but it made him smile.

Steve got up to hug her, then went to help Charlie with the gifts, and while he was distracted, Grace made eye contact with Danny, her eyebrows rising, head tilting. He shook his head, bemusedly, he knew. She walked around the sofa and came to sit next to her dad, wrapping an arm around him, kissing his cheek, and whispering “I’m so happy for you, Danno.”  

Charlie was there in the next moment, before Danny could reply, pushing red and white wrapped, beribboned boxes into each of their laps, climbing onto the coffee table with one of his own, while Steve got out his phone to take pictures, settling next to Danny, but not as close as Danny would have liked.

The next hour or so was a colorful cacophony of ribbons and paper and boxes, as well as new clothes, books, and of course toys, spread out across the room by the time everything had been opened. Danny helped Charlie assemble another fire truck for his ever-expanding collection, and Grace and Steve sat together going through some book of silly poems he’d given her, laughing out loud and whispering in turn. Charlie dragged Grace to his room to show her his toy-car-and-building city set up, giving Steve and Danny a few minutes to catch their breaths. Which apparently meant a few snatched kisses and then some frustrated panting. Grace evidently anticipated this development because she made a fairly loud announcement about them going back out to the living room.

All too soon it was time for the kids to head home, and ordinarily Danny would have been heartbroken by their leaving, but he’d had a wonderful morning, and he could barely deny that he was more than a little interested to see what else the day had in store for him. Besides, he knew he had both kids for a few days before they went back to school.

“You could at least pretend you’re sad to see us go, Danno,” Grace whispered teasingly in his ear as she kissed his cheek goodbye.

He was left standing with his mouth nearly hanging open as he watched her whisper something seemingly similar in Steve’s ear, as he drew back looking abashed.

Charlie rushed out to where his mom stood by the car, jumping into her arms and eagerly chattering away about his presents. Rachel turned her head to wave to Danny and stilled when she saw Steve standing maybe a little too close. Danny took a deep, shuddering breath, which he guessed Steve sensed, as his arm came up, protectively, around Danny’s shoulders, tugging him possessively closer. Trying not to gloat, Danny waved back to Rachel and Charlie, muttering under his breath to Steve “ _Careful_.”

Grace hugged them, together like that, and said she couldn’t wait to see them both later in the week. Leaving no doubt in her eyes, as she leveled stern looks at them, that she meant Steve too.

Danny’s heart spilled over with warmth. “Thanks, monkey.”

“Merry Christmas, you guys. Love you.”

“Love you too, Gracie,” Steve called as she ran to jump in the car.

Once they were back inside, cuddling on the sofa, the floor still littered with wrapping paper, Danny allowed himself a moment of slight freaking out. “So much for subtlety,” he finally said, on a breath that was a lot shakier than he would have liked.

Steve cringed. “I’m sorry. I... it was just my instinctual reaction to the way she was looking at you.”

Danny chuckled. “Honestly, babe, I think I’m glad.” He met Steve’s eyes, which were dancing with something akin to mischief. “I, uh, I hadn’t even thought about Charlie seeing us....” He bit his lip as he trailed off, and saw Steve’s eyes narrow.

“Yeah, I wondered about that....”

Danny sighed, and let himself fall against Steve’s chest, almost nuzzling into it. “It was... there you were, it was Christmas eve, you’d insinuated yourself in our lives... and it just felt right, like it was what was supposed to happen. I don’t know, is that weird?”

The mischief dropped from Steve’s gaze as it turned something much softer. “Danny....”

His eyes fluttered closed against Steve, he let out a sigh. “Yeah, it is weird. I know. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Steve held Danny away from him so he could look him in the eye. “It’s _not_. I was surprised when you didn’t seem concerned about Charlie, but then I fell into that as well. Like you said, it just felt _right_.” He paused to kiss Danny, his hand cupping his chin and pulling him in, softly, gently, carefully, as though he really did think he was made of glass. “Hence my... claiming you... in front of Rachel.” He took a shallow breath. “Was that a mistake, do you think?”

“Really honestly, I don’t even care, but, no.... I don’t think so.” He was struggling to reach up for another kiss, Steve still holding him just back enough. He grunted in frustration, then sank against Steve’s chest with a sigh. “You said when the kids left I could open the rest of my present....” Danny slid his hand up Steve’s arm, letting his fingers trail down the side of his neck, feeling immensely pleased with himself when Steve shivered in response.

“I did, didn’t I?” Steve replied, voice low and gravely, wrapping his arms snugly around Danny. “Only I think I was mostly tormenting you. You’re not up for much more than this, Danny. But I don’t plan on leaving your side for the next week, and I don’t really plan on sharing you with anyone other than the kids, so. We can... see what happens?”

Danny almost yawned as he opened his mouth to say “Yes, please,” catching himself just in time. Still, Steve noticed.

“Exactly my point. You need rest more than anything, buddy. And I’m going to make sure you get it.”

“Kissing is good for healing too, you know,” Danny replied, but he was already starting to fade off into sleep as he said it. “Maybe just a little nap first....”

“Excellent idea. But let’s at least do that in bed, okay?”

“Mmmm. Trying to get in my bed again, huh, babe?”

Danny felt Steve’s laughed response, fuzzy vibrations against his side as they walked, leaning heavily against one another, to Danny’s room. Curling up in the middle of the bed, they drifted for a while in a contented haze of sleepy kisses before settling into a shallow sleep, from which they stirred periodically for more kisses before slipping off again. By evening, they were wakeful and hungry for something more, so they sat at the kitchen counter nibbling on cheese and crackers and fruit and shared small sips of wine, before sitting for a while in the still-chaotic living room, which, lit only by the lights on the tree, seemed to retain the magic of the morning.

“This has been the best Christmas I think I’ve ever had,” Steve murmured against Danny’s head.

Danny’d been holding Steve’s gun hand in his, rubbing his fingers over his calluses, thinking how often he’d wondered what it would be like to get to do just that. Deciding in all likelihood Steve’s sentiment was at least a slight exaggeration, Danny waved it away, but only to himself. He didn’t want to upset Steve by pointing out he’d had at least a few childhood Christmases that must have been magical. Instead he decided to think about what they might do with the kids later in the week, and distracted himself and Steve with that, until he started hiding his yawns again, and Steve insisted on getting him in bed.

They took turns in the shower, Danny taking a longer one, and Steve letting him. Damp and smelling of the same soap, the same minty toothpaste, they slid into bed together, and Danny marveled again over how right it felt.

“It’s funny. Because, we’d never slept in the same bed before last night, but somehow... it feels so familiar... and I can’t imagine not sleeping next to you now.”

It was probably the most intimate thing he could have admitted, given their situation, given the sense he had that they would, even if he weren’t injured, move slowly in certain areas. It had been a long time for both of them, since they’d been with another man, and while they both admitted they were anxious to get there, they agreed taking the long way was what felt right. But some things were not slow. And some things, he was certain, would be near to impossible to go back on. Sleeping together was a big one. There’s something about shared sleep that’s hard to resist. And their hearts synched so readily, their bodies fit so perfectly, their awareness of each other, from years of close physical work maybe fed that, or maybe it was something deeper, but whatever it was, it was warm and certain and soft and contented.

Steve pulled Danny’s hand to his lips and spread a dozen tiny kisses to his fingers, his palm, his wrist. “Then you don’t have to, Danny. Not ever again.”

Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, and lulled by the certainty, the boldness, the confidence of that assertion, Danny allowed himself to fall asleep.

He woke early, but Steve was already alert, soft hazel eyes studying him as though he were something new and not in fact something well known.

“What do you want to do today, Danny?” Steve asked, brushing the hair back from his face.

“Coffee and pancakes in bed,” he started, pulling on Steve’s hand, dragging those deft fingers that had saved him across his lips, not kissing them, but warming them, thanking them, letting them know he was grateful, that he hadn’t forgotten. “Then maybe read? We should clean up a bit, too. Maybe watch a movie. You can make me something nice for dinner.”

Steve was mesmerized by Danny’s worship of his fingers, and his face had gone slack and dreamy. “Sounds perfect, Danny.”

Danny found he agreed. A whole week of that seemed completely unfathomable, and yet... waking up with Steve in his bed would have been unfathomable two days before, so. He decided he’d reserve judgment on that front for a while.

Later, as he sat snug in bed, leaning back against Steve, Steve’s legs corralling Danny, Steve’s hands, those same strong fingers, playing with his hair, as Danny read his book, he felt prepared to throw all expectations and prejudgments out the window. This was, he thought, this was the nearest to bliss he’d ever felt. He questioned that assertion only a few hours later, when he sat on the sofa, nibbling on the last bites of a simple dinner Steve made, Danny’s feet resting in Steve’s lap, those fingers once more caressing Danny—his toes this time. A goofy holiday comedy was playing on the TV, the kind that Danny would ordinarily object to, but somehow it seemed to fit. Again he questioned it, still later, once they’d each showered and were settled in bed, their “usual” spots already determined, their favored positions for sleep already established, Danny’s fondness for caressing Steve’s hands bringing a smile to Steve’s face.

“You’re thinking about what I did, when you do that, aren’t you.”

“Mmm?” Danny mused, looking fondly up at Steve, lost, a little, in the sensation of Steve’s hands, rough and dry even after his shower.

“How I had to use my hands, my fingers, inside your chest....”

Steve’s voice sounded raw, as though perhaps he felt a little transported back to those moments himself. His expression slightly strained. But when Danny looked at him, gazing, he supposed, adoringly—it was how he felt at least, it was difficult to suppose that didn’t translate at least a little to his eyes—Steve shuddered.

“Sometimes,” Danny allowed. “But more than that, I think. More just how capable they are, how strong, how rough, but how gentle, how tender....” He sighed. “I sound like a love-sick fool.”

Steve’s lips quirked into a crooked smile. “I’m not complaining.”

Danny chuckled softly. “No, I didn’t imagine you would.”

They kissed for a while, light, fond, disbelieving kisses, then slept soundly, dreamlessly, pressed close together, claiming, possessive, sheltered from reality, from the rest of the world, just for a while, in each other’s arms.

The next couple days were much the same.... Restful, relaxing, restorative. And just a little bit isolationist. For the three days following that, Grace and Charlie were with them, and the pattern expanded accordingly. They made pancakes, ordered pizza, watched movies, played with Charlie’s new toys, cuddled on the sofa with hot cocoa and books. Steve wrapped Danny in a blanket and made him sit on a camp chair on the lawn while he and Grace helped Charlie practice riding his bike. They went to the beach just once, playing in the waves at the shore line and building an enormous sand castle that Charlie stomped on while Steve took video.

Each of those nights, Danny was grateful to return to their cocoon in bed, their nest they’d been constructing, of whispered endearments, grins and smirks, and increasingly suggestive kisses. By the time the kids were packed back off to their mother’s house after the third day, Danny was ready to explore this new connection between them _further_. Eager hands followed sleepy trails down paths imagined, sought but not taken, and their first releases, arrived at simultaneously, felt not new and revelatory, but familiar and comforting. There was nothing mind blowing about it, no passionate exclamations, more soft “ohh, it’s you... it’s always been you, there you are... I remember you.” That sense of having already known, already felt this, might have been disconcerting, if they hadn’t so carefully created a bubble for themselves over the past many days. Instead, it just _fit_.

They spent most of the next day in bed, not venturing too much further beyond those lazy surface explorations, claiming each and every place they could reach again and again until their sense of it was somehow mindless and yet easily intentioned—as it might have been if they’d been in practice for years rather than just days.

Just before midnight on the 31st, Danny woke Steve with a lingering kiss that lasted until well after the beginning of the New Year. They spent the day under blankets on the sofa, watching bits of the parade on replay, checking in on games, but mostly savoring their last sequestered day.

Towards sunset, while Danny was absorbed once more breathing humid caresses onto Steve’s fingers, Steve burst the film they’d allowed to settle over them, keeping them from talking about what would happen next, what they would do with this new fragile creation, how they would adapt it to their old lives. He’d brought some things from his house, when Danny’d taken the kids home to Rachel, but it wouldn’t be enough. Neither of them was at all sure how to proceed—and it had been wonderful not thinking about it, but the next day would bring a harshness slamming back down on them, and they were pragmatic enough to realize they needed a plan more advanced than slamming open the door and rushing in. Though, as Steve pointed out, that was often what they did.

“I just can’t see a way through this,” Danny mumbled, still half-absorbed with their lazy touches, letting his feet tickle Steve’s ankles under the blanket they were huddled under on the sofa. “You need your house, your swimming, your space....” Steve took a breath as though he might protest, but Danny stilled a finger on his lips, shushing him. “You do, don’t argue with me right now, please. And the kids need their rooms here.”

“What do _you_ need, Danny?” Steve asked, around Danny’s finger, which he’d left on Steve’s lips. He pressed it into Steve’s mouth, swirling it around Steve’s tongue, grunting in warning or arousal, maybe both, when Steve bit down.

“ _This_ , you, the kids,” Danny began. “Sleep, you feeding me, kisses, fucking, watching football, watching you wash the dishes, watching the kids play, reading between your legs in bed, being brought coffee by you and Charlie....” He trailed off. “I think it seems too much because I’m still so tired, and I’ve got used to this lazy, sleepy life and I don’t want it to end, not yet, but I know it has to.” He sighed, bringing Steve’s hand up for more kisses. “But I think we just have to work our way through it and find what works and what doesn’t, and we might stumble, we might fall on our asses... and maybe I’m being naïve, and maybe I’m just an idiot in love, but I think we’ll figure it out... especially if we can figure out a way to have some of this each day.”

“Some what, Danny? Nibbling on my fingers?”

“See, you’re already pushing it....”

Steve’s eyebrows went up as if in challenge, but Danny’s response was to get up and head for the shower. When Steve didn’t follow, Danny turned back to him, leveled a soft glare at him.

“Well, are you coming or not?”

He laughed when Steve jumped up and nearly fell over the blanket in his haste to join Danny.

In the restful space after their much longer than Navy length shower, it was Steve who turned philosophical.

“I think you’re right, Danny. We’ll figure it out... and maybe it’s better if we can’t see what it will look like...” he paused for a few kisses. “I certainly didn’t see _this_ when I came over Christmas Eve.”

Danny was too sated and warm and comfortable to be thrown by that admission, but he was curious.

“What _did_ you see happening, babe?”

“I really didn’t think about it. It was more that there wasn’t anything else I _could_ do. Nowhere else I could be that night.”

“That’s not exactly a solid road map forward.”

“No, it’s not.”

Danny was regarding Steve hesitatingly. Steve, he felt, was trying his best to look reassuring. That seemed to mean a lot to Danny, and though it didn’t help him see things any more clearly, maybe it made it more okay that he couldn’t. Maybe it was more that this was what he wanted, what they both wanted, and as long as they followed it, carefully at times, but probably jumping and leaping at others, once they were stronger, well, maybe that was the best they could hope for, and maybe it was even better than that.

“I think we sleep, and see where the morning takes us.”

“Okay... as long as we end up back in bed together at the end of the day, I think I can be okay with that.”

“Agreed.”

“Good, now shut up and kiss me.”

“Yeah, I can begin to see how this is going to go....”

“Admit it, Danny, this was the best present ever.”

Danny _didn’t_ admit it, but the kiss he gave Steve might just have given him away.


End file.
